


No Big Loss

by MizJoely



Series: SherlollyPrompts [13]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 13:32:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11186145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: writingwife-83 asked: Hey there! How about drabble prompt #122? "I'm worried about losing my job!" ;D





	No Big Loss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Writingwife83](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writingwife83/gifts).



> This one went in a completely different direction than I had planned…whoops! More Post TFP angst with a dash of the originally intended humor.

“But Molly,” Sherlocked whined, “you don’t understand! I’m worried about losing my job! I’m stressed!”

“You’re stressed? I’m dying!” Molly said tartly, then took another sip of her mai-tai. “You’re the one who decided to tag along on my holiday! It’s not my fault if you’re worried that Scotland Yard will suddenly figure out how to get along without you!!”

“I did not ‘tag along’,” he said, sitting up straight on the lounge chair next to hers and glaring at her over the top of his (designer) sunglasses. “I offered to accompany you in case of…things.” As she opened her mouth to ask what ‘things’ he was referring to, he hurriedly added, “And don’t think I didn’t catch what you did there, with the stressed and the dying. I may have been off my tits but I still remember our little post-ambulance chat.”

“Then why,” Molly asked through gritted teeth, “did you so conveniently forget that I was going on this vacation to get away from ‘things’?” She made sarcastic air quotes and turned away from him with a huff, trying once again not to be distracted by his bare chest and low-slung cargo shorts. “If you’d stayed in London, you wouldn’t have to worry about ‘losing your job’ and I wouldn’t have to worry about what else you seem to have forgotten!”

Damn, she hadn’t meant to say that, to bring up That Conversation or the words they’d both exchanged under duress. Even though Sherlock had admitted to meaning it, he’d also admitted he didn’t know what to do with his feelings and so they’d agreed to just go on as they had been.

Molly, however, being unable to compartmentalize as efficiently as Sherlock seemed to manage, had decided on this week-long holiday to the Canary Islands as a way to distance herself from both London and Sherlock, to give herself a chance to really process what that forced confession meant…but of course the bloody, stupid, selfish prick couldn’t leave well enough alone.

She started to rise, mumbling some excuse about needing the loo, but the feel of his hands on her shoulders startled her into not only retaking her seat (with a bit of an awkward thump) but also into turning to face him again.

His expression was solemn, his eyes now uncovered by the sunglasses staring directly into hers. “I’m sorry. I have got to get out of this habit I have of saying such terrible things to you. I did invite myself along on this hoiday and it wasn’t only because I was worried something might happen to you.” He looked away, took a breath, squinted at the ocean, then turned back to her. “I tagged along because I couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving without me. And all because I’ve been too much of a coward to tell you the truth.”

Molly’s heart was thumping painfully in her chest. “What truth?” she asked, barely able to force the words out. Was this his way of saying he couldn’t see any kind of a future for them besides friendship? Because if it was, well, she could live with that…but she would need a much longer holiday - alone - first.

“I love you. I want to try to be more than friends. If that’s something you still want with me.”

The words didn’t register at first, braced as Molly had been for a ‘letting you down gently’ speech. When they did, she could barely contain her joy; it erupted from her very pores, stretching her lips into a brilliant smile and lighting her eyes as if they contained stars of their very own. “You do?” she asked, turning her body she could fully face him.

Sherlock was half-kneeling on the hot sand between their loungers. “I do,” he affirmed. “Even though I know I’ll be rubbish at it and eventually you’ll get sick of me and toss me over for some idiot who remembers anniversaries and Valentine’s Day and…”

Molly laid her hand very gently across his mouth; he got the idea and stopped talking. Still smiling, she pulled her hand away. “We’ll both make mistakes and get on each other’s nerves and fight and shout and all that,” she replied. “All the usual things people in love go through. But we’ll sort it all out in the end. But right now I’d really like to kiss you, Sherlock Holmes, if you think Scotland Yard can still work with a consulting detective even if he’s in a romantic relationship?”

His lips curved in a wicked grin. “I think so,” he agreed, pulling her into his arms. “And if they can’t? No big loss.” Then they were too busy snogging to worry about anything beyond this one, perfect moment.


End file.
